


I Hurt Too

by Vivianwjw123



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Héctor's gone through shit too, Imelda just needs to remember that, Just angst, argument, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 15:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14335599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivianwjw123/pseuds/Vivianwjw123
Summary: Héctor should be happy, and he is! But....he can't stop that dumb thought from nagging his mind.





	I Hurt Too

**Author's Note:**

> I have a rule that angst needs a happy ending.
> 
> Well screw that rule.
> 
> (My first time angsting. Pls leave criticism!)

It was three weeks after that fateful Dia de los Muertos. 

Héctor had a family again. Héctor had _Imelda_ again. He could be happy, and he was! 

Until a thought bubbled up, and wouldn't stop nagging at him.

_Had Imelda ever tried to look for him when he went missing?_

He could understand that he broke her heart and left her to fend for herself and Coco, but it was hard to believe that she would just... _give up_ on him. 

So that's why on a quiet evening where everyone was conveniently out and about doing their own business, Héctor pulled Imelda aside for a talk. They sat down in the living room.

Héctor sucked in a breath. Too late to back out now.

"Imelda, this is probably a strange question to ask, but it's just been bothering me a lot..." Héctor stopped. Was this a good idea? Maybe it wasn't to late to make up a question. This wasn't-

"It's okay, Héctor. You can ask me anything," Imelda reassured him. He laced his finger bones together.

_Just do it._

"When I died, did you look for me?" He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for a reply. 

"..." 

Nothing. 

Héctor slowly opened his eyes.

"Imelda?"

"I-I, where did this come from?" Imelda stuttered out. He raised a brow bone. Her entire demeanor had changed.

"To be honest, I don't really know. But did you?" He pressed a little.

"I...no, I didn't," Imelda finally said. Héctor blinked. _She didn't?_

"W-why not?" He asked. A look of shame crept into her features.

"After your letters stopped coming in, I thought... you'd left us."

_What?_

"Wait, y-you...thought I just...left?" Héctor didn't think he believed what he was hearing. He didn't _want_ to.

"Did Ernesto send you a letter? Maybe one that _said_ I left? I mean, I wouldn't put it past him..." His voice trailed off. Imelda could _feel_ the hopefulness, the slightly desperate tone in his voice.

"No." 

It was only one word, spoken softly.

It was one word, but it was enough to splinter his heart, which had just barely healed.

"What?" Imelda winced. Héctor's voice was filled with confusion and hurt and the shards of his broken heart. 

"Héctor, lo siento, I was angry and sad! I thought you ran off with another woman you charmed with your music-"

" _ **What?**_ " Héctor's skull whirled with hurt, but mostly confusion. He would _never_ leave them. He didn't think he was that kind of person. 

"Imelda...I would never leave you. Never for some other woman! I...y-you _know_ that...right?" 

Héctor wanted so badly for Imelda to say yes, but that guilty look on her face and the words she didn't speak killed something inside him.

"So you really thought..." Héctor swallowed, and a few sad chuckles escaped his throat. "It's just...I...why?" 

"What do you mean?" Imelda asked.

"What do I mean? _What do I mean?_ " His voice got a little high, "Why did you think I would leave you _like that?_ Why did you never look for me? Why did you _give up on me so easily?_ "

Those few seconds of silence between them were thick and poisonous.

"You were the one who _left_ in the first place!" Imelda growls, "You don't, and will never know how hard it is to raise a child alone! The money you promised to send us was barely enough to have a decent meal on the table! I had to create a business from nothing, _nothing,_ just to keep my baby from starving. I think you'll have to forgive me if I thought the worst at the time!" 

A hot flash of anger sears through Héctor's ribs, with the painful undertones of guilt, which sparked more anger. 

"I know that, _I KNOW that!_ " Héctor practically yells, "Stop holding that over my head! Do you think what you're telling me is anything I haven't heard? NO! I've been telling myself this for the last _century_. 'You left them, Héctor,' 'You abandoned her, Héctor,' 'Look how hard she needed to work Héctor,' over, and over, and over again! I haven't forgiven myself! I still _HATE_ myself for it!" 

Héctor sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. He could hear his shuddering ribs clattering through his vest.

"And no, you didn't just think the worst 'at the time,' you held on to that thought for _more than 90 years._ You didn't even _look_ for me," He let out a shaky exhale. Héctor felt his anger sputter and die out.

"Was..." He cringed as his voice broke a little.

"Was it something that I did?" He finally asked.

" _Q-Que?_ "

" _Did I do something that made you think so little of me?_ " When Imelda didn't answer, he laughed bitterly.

"Or was was leaving with Ernesto enough make your mental image of me plummet that far?"

Imelda's lip curled at the name of that man, but other than that, she said nothing

"I thought so." Héctor sighed. He stood up.

"Héctor..?" Imelda started. She fell into silence, not knowing what she should say, what she _could_ say.

"I'm going to be on the roof to...clear my head," began Héctor. "I'm sorry Imelda, I didn't want us to fight. I never should have said anything." 

He gave a little snort.

"I guess that's another thing to add to the list of things I shouldn't have done."

With that, he left, leaving Imelda with nothing but her own thoughts.  
\--------------------------------  
Guilt clung to Imelda's ribs. 

She really, _really_ wanted to kick herself for what she said. 

_Why did I say that?_

Anger?

Possibly. A century of hurt didn't just...go away.

To get back at him?

That was a dumb excuse and she knew it.

Habit?

She really, _really_ hoped not.

Imelda prayed, _begged_ , to whatever god was watching over them that they could fix this. That there could be a chance of mending the dark, gaping chasm between them.

How could she forget that he hurt too?

**Author's Note:**

> OK. This is...a little embarrassing, but there's this Chinese cartoon that I like called Happy Heroes, and I kinda want to write something for it. If anybody knows about it, can you tell me? I don't want to write anything unless I know people will be reading it. 
> 
> Please and thank you!


End file.
